There are no words to write.
No words to say.
That is okay.
There is more beauty than can be explained. There is more space between than can be fathomed.
Do not force what is not meant just to fill a space.
Let it be itself, let it be free, unchained.
Let it flow onward and away.
There is peace in nothing to say.
No more to add.
No more to take away.
Continue in stillness.
She was born in the wild,
Immersed in nature from first breath.
She was the wild.
People tried to change her.
They tried to shorten her breaths,
She bounded too high
Her steps held no path in mind.
Over downed trees she would leap without a
Scratches from sticker bush and branches
Made her laugh.
Brambles in her hair.
And her heart raced at the sight of the bear
And the squirrel;
All the same in the wild.
All one living and breathing being,
For together they felt the dirt
On their bare skin. Raw.
The berries and the fiddle fern
Filled her appetite.
Cold mountain waters quenched her thirst.
The wild was her foundation, her breath,
Her heart, her skin.
She is the wild.
Her secret is this,
(Though she has been set free)
Sometimes she longs for the
False safety of her prison
Yet wakes up at night in
From a nightmare
That she has returned.
Sleep does not welcome her
Motionless for fear of
She will not blink.
Covers soaked and wrapped around her as if
Shield from monsters and beasts.
In the darkness she hides.
For peace within
A prison of a
Why she continually felt
In a different sort of orbit.
She had always lived free.
Wild and free can be anything.
To me it is wandering in the woods off trail.
Eating fresh raspberries and blueberries
While listening for wild animals that may come.
As a young girl,
Taking off alone to
Ride that beautiful white mare
Bareback up mountainsides so steep
And through Forests so deep.
Her mane in my bare hands and my legs holding tight with every change in direction
Giggling when I turned corners and almost falling off
When she reared.
Finding bear tracks in mine upon returning back to where I
Catching the curious eyes of a lynx
And hearing the thump of a beaver tail,
The squeak of a porcupine in a tree.
The sweet smell of dirt and rain
And the silence of heaven in the wind singing in my ears.
Trusting myself and the earth.
In those wild and free moments
I died and was reborn again and again.
They saved me from death.
I understand now.
They think she’s the crazy one.
She hears them talking but she does not care.
She is drunk on life itself.
Dancing by herself,
Using the the whole earth as her dance floor.
And they cannot imagine why she smiles and laughs so
As she twirls
And swirls her hips,
Hands overhead as she is reaching for the sky.
Because, she is somewhere else in her soul.
They do not know
The other life she lived.
And she is ever so grateful to be
So beautifully free.
Hold it inside.
That is where she was trapped most of her life.
Do not let fear,
(or the figments of your imagination)
Hold you back from
Whatever that may mean to you.
Someone told me
The people who did these things to me are not here anymore.
They can no longer hurt me.
Why this did not occur to me before,
I do not know.
Maybe because i still hear their
Maybe because every sense and nerve in me reacts to
Certain noises and movements as if those people are still in the same room with me;
I feel the ghost of their touch.
I am ready to let them go now;
To see them, to feel them fade
Away into nothingness.
They can no longer keep
Because you cannot
You cannot hold love captive.
I am no longer fear,
I am love
And love is free.